Saved For Lack Thereof
by Amme Moto
Summary: First in my Based on a Title series. Set during KotOR. A story with basically no meaning. Connan sits, watching the miracle of the galaxy happen around her. Carth joins her. Fluff ensues. Merry Christmas, all!


**Hi again, guys. Since I'm in school **_**again**_** with nothing else to do, since I've done all the work and there's only two days left until our week off, I figured I'd write something else. I'm going to try and finish it in the half hour I have left this period, as well as the fifty minutes I have tomorrow with a computer. Or, I might just email it to myself. I'll tell you how it goes at the end.**

**Set on Korriban. I really don't care if it snows there or not. It's my story and it **_**does **_**on occasion, because it's snowing **_**here **_**in Texas and it never does. Anyway, it's the third planet, a few days after she's beaten Bandon. And I **_**also **_**know that she beats Bandon with two others (if you're not suicidal) and outside the Sith Academy on the surface. I also don't care much about that. I set it between Dreshdae and the Sith Academy. **

**I don't know what's going to happen here, guys. I'm as clueless as you are. We're just going to go with the flow and see what happens, all right? Cool.**

**Saved for Lack Thereof**

It certainly wasn't the _coldest _day Connan had ever experienced. There had been plenty of times when she'd been stuck on the south side of Sajor on a mission with Ricky the Cathar, with nothing to do but sit and wait for hypothermia to set in. Those days had been much colder than this one in particular.

But this day was _supposed_ to have been a warm day. No one had expected the weather to change that quickly. One minute everyone was sweating from their work coupled with the temperature of the desolate Korriban terrain, the next they're shivering and half-expecting to see little snow flakes fall to the ground. This—if her Jedi powers told her anything—wouldn't be too far along in the coming.

It's not like she was helping herself. Connan could certainly have moved at any time she'd chosen. She didn't want to be cold, but she just _couldn't_ move from that beautiful view she had staring back at her. She thought it had been pretty enough when it was hot, and the brash wind made the sand dance in little whirlwinds. She had no idea that when Korriban was cold, it was much more stunning.

It wasn't windy enough to make the sand pick up anymore, to Connan's disappointment. She liked to watch the sand swirl around itself, dancing in erratic patterns. She could get lost in the unpredictability.

But _now_… wow.

There wasn't snow, but there was a light frost over the land that Connan could see from her high perch. The ground glistened; the sand froze into place by the severity of the cold. She felt as if the ground were water; if she laid her hand on it she could feel a moist, icy layer of earth, and she would be able to see her own reflection.

Force, it was cold.

Connan stretched her arms into the air, rousing her dog from underneath her. Æliesha was a good Kath Hound. She never wanted anything from her Master but the enjoyment of her company. And her Master's safety, of course.

Connan thought this was probably the only reason that Æliesha had followed her into the balcony. The dog really hated heights, and no one could ever make her do something that she wasn't already intent on doing. She'd followed Connan readily enough, even when the Jedi had _told _her where she'd been going.

Connan grimaced as she stretched. The muscles in her abdomen pulled tight—tighter than they used to—to the point of pain. She scowled. Stupid Bandon. What did he think he was doing, attacking her while she was alone? The only thing that had saved her was her strange case of schizophrenia; she'd been able to switch back and forth between minds to keep both at the same level of energy until her friends could arrive.

Thankfully, she and Jishin—her other self—had managed to stave off the offender, even with their minds uncharacteristically split from the other. But not without sporting a rather serious-looking hole in her ribs.

She remembered the moment, only a few days ago, when she was on the ramp, sitting in her balcony spot and speaking with her other self, when a crash came from behind her and she leapt off, careening into the ground as Jishin was knocked unconscious.

As most people know, it's not very pleasant to have half of you practically comatose while trying to fight a well-practiced Sith Apprentice. She'd had to hold her own until her other self regained awareness and could start switching.

The huge gash in her ribs had been healed well enough, though the scar that remained was rather unpleasant.

Æliesha beside her gave a growl and stood up. Connan laughed airily through her nose as she felt the presence of someone familiar prickle through her senses.

"Hello, Onasi."

"Frai."

The response was almost obligatory. Connan and Carth _never_ called each other by their first names, and if they ever did they were either about to die or seriously depressed. It was a rule they had between them that the Jedi Princess had obviously never been able to understand.

Connan barked out Carth's last name as a friendly gesture, just as she picked on Bastila endlessly because it was practically required for the two to bicker. Nothing really came out of it; it was just how they showed that they cared.

They stayed silent for a moment, but it was more out of respect for the beauty before them than anything else. It had begun to snow slightly, and the small flakes fell to the ground and stuck. It was a strange phenomenon for it to snow on Korriban, but when it did, it would snow for hours.

"Why are you up here?" Carth asked, rubbing his shoulders as he shivered. "It's _freezing._"

"I know what temperature it is, thank you." Connan replied. Æliesha sneezed.

"You're going to get sick." Carth insisted. "Do you realize how _sad _it's going to seem if you survive your first Sith Lord attack but die from pneumonia a few days later?"

Connan laughed quietly. Yes, it _would _seem rather pathetic… and ironic.

When she thought about it, she really shouldn't have been out in the cold. And if she was at all honest with herself, she would have told herself that she was scared of going up on the balcony after her adventures a few days before.

But maybe that's why she was up there in the first place.

"Please," She replied lightheartedly. "The only thing that can kill me is old age."

"You keep saying that," Carth threw his legs over the side and sat with Connan, ignoring the cold just as well as she was. "But you keep doing things that make everyone think otherwise."

"But I'm still alive, aren't I?" Connan shrugged. "Nothing's killed me yet."

"I'd like to think that's more of our constant worrying than your powers." Carth answered. He squinted his eyes and surveyed the range of land that was steadily icing over for the night, the same look of awe on his face which mirrored Connan's. "If we look away from you for not _even _a minute, you've gone and put yourself in a life-or-death situation. It drives all of us nuts."

"Even you?"

The question had come out too quickly; without forewarning. She hadn't even _meant _to say it. It was a question that had been on her mind for a while, and it leapt out of her the moment she had a chance to say it.

It certainly made Carth look at her, though whether with surprise or pensiveness she couldn't tell, and she wouldn't try using her Force to check; that would just end with an argument.

"Same amount of worry," Carth pointed a finger in the air sagely. "Different reasons."

Curiosity forced her into her next bout of questions. She used the Force to stay balanced on the balcony rail as she brought her knees to her chest and locked her hands on her wrists around her shins.

"What reasons?"

Carth frowned. He looked like he was biting his tongue. He took a while to answer, giving Connan lots of time to look him over to see how he was doing.

His hair was frazzled and sticking up in the air, suggesting that either he'd just woken up or just got out of the shower; and taking the amount of jet lag that plundered through the _Ebon Hawk _into account, either story was plausible. His trademark orange jacket hung limply on his shoulders, and his white undershirt protruded underneath. He looked as if he hadn't had time to zip up his jacket and keep warm.

His voice brought Connan from her reverie, and she focused her eyes on the darkening sky as he answered.

"Bastila worries about you almost non-stop. Even when she's asleep and you're on the other side of the ship, she's still always wondering where you are and what you're doing; convinced that something's going to happen and she's going to lose the one person she's ever been in charge of." Carth explained.

Connan huffed loudly, with enough exasperation to make her dog growl forebodingly at her feet. Carth glanced cautiously toward Æliesha then back to Connan.

"Jolee worries about your sanity; probably more than he should. I think he knows something that we don't, because whenever you and I get into a huge fight, or whenever something happens that manages to upset you, he suddenly jumps out of the old-man-can-do-what-he-wants mode and starts up his wise-old-Jedi remarks." Carth sighed. "I think he does it because he worries that if someone wasn't around to help you through things, something bad would happen."

"Strange, but okay," Connan remarked, pushing her neck to the point of popping it loudly. This pulled a cringe out of Carth; the man never liked popping any sort of knuckle or joint, and hearing others do so sickened him slightly.

"Mission—I'm not sure why she worries, really. I think she's seen a side of you that no one else has, and either it scares her or it makes her worry that you're going to do something that's not very good." Carth continued.

Connan nodded, understanding. Mission was the one she trusted most out of all of them. It was Mission who had helped her come up with the plan to get Carth's son back.

In fact, _that's _probably what Carth was talking about when he said "it scares her". Connan had to admit she'd been pretty scary, sabotaging Uthar Wynn and Yuthura Ban against each other so she could gain access into their rooms to search. She'd had to lie to get through to Yuthura that "oh! She had no _clue_ how Wynn could suspect that they were going to kill him!" and find a way to break into Uthar's rooms.

Mission was _supposed _to be her only confident in that, but Connan had messed up when the viper kinrath poison erupted into the room and poisoned her, and Mission had ended up dragging Connan back and yelling for Jolee. Of course the old man wanted to know how she got kinrath poisoning without going into the caves, first.

"Well," She frowned, chewing on her tongue before she could think of a reply. "She and I are close."

"True," Carth admitted.

"Go on."

"I don't think Juhani worries about your safety, per se. I think she's smarter than Bastila in that aspect. She knows you can take care of yourself long enough to find help. I think she worries about your alignment." Carth glanced at her, letting her know that this was also one if _his _worries.

"My alignment?" Connan repeated. "Excuse me, but I'm as gray as I'll ever be."

"Gray?" Carth raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"I'm decidedly _not _Dark Side." Connan explained. "I'm trying to stop a war of my own, so pointless murders won't help me." She stuck her tongue out. "But I can't _stand _being all Light Side! All the meditating and the nonviolence and the being nice all the time."

She took a moment to shudder and rub her arms, uncrossing her legs and standing to try and get the feeling back.

"I don't _want _to sleep sitting cross-legged! Anyone who _wants _to do that is _nuts_! Have you ever tried? It's not that much fun. You get cramps!" She took a breath and went on. "And some things are better settled with a bit of threats, you know? We probably never would have gotten this far if I hadn't have threatened a few people to do it."

Carth laughed.

"It's not funny!" Connan gawked. "It's _not_! Bastila keeps bothering me about it and I'm fixing to stick her lightsaber down her own throat!"

"Now, now," Carth waggled a finger at Connan, still laughing. "What happened to Jedi Nonviolence?"

"I'll show _you _nonviolence!"

With that, Connan pushed Carth off of the balcony. He latched onto her wrist, dragging her with him.

It wasn't a long way down, of course. It seemed to last forever and for only a second when you went by surprise, but Connan knew it was coming this time. She laughed as she used the Force to pad their fall, and shivered as she felt the _crunch _of snow underneath them.

Carth was already on the ground, safe and sound, of course, and he took Connan's challenge, pinning her to the ground. Connan shook herself out of it and flipped over, sending snow into the air and into her hair. Carth spun her around, once again gaining the advantage.

Connan landed on her back, her wrists utterly pinned beneath Carth's large hands. He sniggered at her.

"Thought you could win, didn't you?" He taunted. Connan growled, shifting her position in a moment's notice. Carth's eyes widened, and he quickly trapped her legs beneath his. "Don't you try to kick me!"

Connan turned red, obviously aware of the position they both held now. She shuddered again, and not because it was cold.

"Umm…." Connan bit her lower lip, examining Carth's profile. His hair hung out in his eyes, and Connan felt an urge to reach up and brush the tendrils back. "Carth?"

Carth—the _git—_seemed to know exactly what he was doing. He smirked knowingly, leaning closer to Connan, flicking his nose to hers.

"Yes?"

Connan growled at herself inwardly, scolding herself on how easily she'd gotten into the very position which made her turn into a tomato. How had she let this man do this? He had completely pinned her to the ground, and though she could easily throw him off if she wanted, she couldn't seem to find the gumption to do it.

"I—uh…."

It was one of the only times she'd ever been struck for words. She opened her mouth, expecting to tell him to _get off_, but when the chance come, nothing happened. She closed her mouth again and stared.

She'd never seen that closely into Carth's eyes before.

How they shone, the auburn flecks in between his coffa-colored irises. Connan's own eyes widened as she thought it. She could practically see the snow underneath her shimmering, reflecting, bouncing almost happily off of those opals.

Oh, this had to _stop_.

She wasn't in control of these emotions. They sort of ran wild in her, and every time she tried to grasp at them, they would pull out of reach again; laughing at her inability to catch them—usually around the time Carth came around and pulled something like this.

She sat there, her mouth opening and shutting, wanting to tell him to go _away_, but not having the words to supply it with.

Maybe Carth could see the conflict in her, or maybe he just got impatient. Maybe he never even realized what kind of position he had put her in. Whatever the reason, he was up in a moment, dragging Connan up with him.

"It's freezing out here," He insisted, taking off his jacket and throwing it over her shoulders. Connan's senses were instantly filled with the smell of coffa, mixed in with the gentle scent of pipe smoke, which he strangely preferred to ciggas. "You're going to get pneumonia. Call that dog of yours and let's go back to the ship."

Connan must have been colder than she thought, because the jacket that settled comfortably onto her shoulders was warmer than she expected. "Huh?" Was the only sound that could come out of her mouth; she was still a little dumb-founded about her latest situation.

"Bastila's going to have my head if you don't get back to the ship." Carth explained as he pulled her back up the ramp to their awaiting Kath Hound. "She found _you _missing, but she found your jacket still on top of your cot."

Connan sputtered for a moment, remembering why she came out in the first place.

"I just wanted to think for a minute," She excused. "And it was hot when I came out; how was I supposed to know that it was going to snow on Korriban?"

"Yes, snows on Korriban are very rare," Carth agreed. He eyed Connan. "And very deadly if not handled properly."

Deadly? Was he suggesting that Connan could _die?_

"Onasi," She stopped abruptly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you think I'm going to get sick and die from being outside."

"Well," Carth shrugged, trying to make Connan finish the walk up the ramp and into Dreshdae. "You were recently in a fight. A very big, injury-inducing fight, _Frai_," Carth stressed her last name unnecessarily. "And I don't want you getting sick, anymore than you want to die."

Connan laughed, appalled.

"_I'll _pick when I'm going to die, thank you." She nodded her head roughly, sitting stubbornly on the ramp and crossing her arms. "And you can tell Bastila that if she wants me back on that stupid ship, she'll have to come and fight me!"

Connan had expected a ton of things to happen from Carth's point of view. He expected him to gawk, call her crazy, rant, rave, maybe even leave her there (though she didn't know why she had the plummeting feeling at this thought), but she _never _expected him to laugh and sit down beside her.

Which is what he did.

"I _told _her you wouldn't come back." He shrugged, sitting on the ground next to her and leaning against the railing.

"Oh, really?" Connan began feeling a bit _too _predictable now. She shook the feeling off and went for something different. "How did the conversation go?"

Carth glanced at her from the corner of his eyes for a moment, eyebrows raised in the obvious question. Then he opened his mouth and replied.

"Well," He started, staring up at the sky. Connan bit back a laugh at the sight of him getting powdered with snowflakes. She couldn't imagine how cold his face must have been, but with the look of concentration that was set stubbornly on his face, she didn't think he'd move anytime soon. "She went to Jolee, first, actually."

Connan laughed. "Did she? And how did that go?"

"Not how she wanted," Carth joined in on her laugh this time. "The man insisted that you would be fine and that after a fight like that, _nothing _could kill you for at least a month."

"Good!" Connan suddenly brightened. "That means I get to be as close to danger as I want for a _month_! Where's Lashowe? We should go kill that Tuk'ata now!"

"No, Frai!" Carth grabbed at her wrist to keep her from pulling herself up. "Not until you _plan _the assault."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"You're no fun."

"As I was saying," Carth continued. "Bastila didn't like being shot down by a half-Jedi. So she came to me."

"What did she say?" Connan asked. Carth furrowed his brow and set his jaw firmly in place.

"Give me a minute," He waved a hand in front of her. "I'm sorting through the embarrassing stuff."

Connan twitched. Embarrassing stuff? Had Bastila talked to Carth about _her_? She turned around in the other direction to hide the redness in her face, occupying herself with whistling for her Kath Hound.

Æliesha bounded up to Connan and sat down instantly, resting her head on Connan's lap.

"Here we go!" Carth cried. "She said that if I didn't come back with you in—five minutes?—that she would inform the Jedi Council of your irresponsibility."

"Hah!" Connan sat back too, now, and fastened her hands to the back of her head. "That's likely. She can try. Bastila has yet to figure out that I don't care a mynock's _wing _what they think of me." She shrugged. "I'm grateful for the powers they gave me, but I'm not going to bow and call them Master and obey their every whim. I can _live _without their approval, you know."

"_I _know," Carth corrected. "But you've yet to convince Bastila."

"Well, then," Connan shrugged Carth's jacket off, spilling it back over his shoulders. At least that _smell _was gone now. Not that it was a _bad _smell, per se. In fact, she'd grown quite used to the smell, like you get used to ships or planes. You know the smell is there, and when you think of it, it returns, but when your mind is on something else, the scent is no where to be found. "We'd better be heading back. Just because _I've _gained invincibility for a month doesn't mean _you _have."

"Frai, since when have you been invincible?" Carth stood, pulling Connan up with him. Æliesha grudgingly let her spot go on Connan's lap and prepared for the cold trek back to the ship.

Connan leaned in close to Carth, reveling in the chance of finally catching _him _off guard. Her nose bumped into his, and if she was any closer she would have been kissing him.

"Since I was about to die and someone shot Bandon in the arm." She whispered. She could feel the heat radiating off of Carth's face now, as realization came over him. _He _had been the first one out of the Dreshdae settlement; _he _had been the one who shot the shot to make Bandon drop his lightsaber and give Connan a second chance.

It made Connan laugh to see Carth floundering for an answer. She loved having the chance to make him sputter and think as fast as his brain would let him.

However, Carth raised to the challenge, giving off a half-smirk, half-disbelieving look that Connan could barely see, close as she was to his own visage.

"Don't tell me that you being invincible is _my _fault." He whispered. Connan sniggered.

"Well," She partially shrugged, not breaking the eye contact. Neither one was going to back up. "Would you rather have me invincible or dead?"

Carth set his jaw, determined neither to back up nor to make the first move. His eyebrows furrowed deeper and he chewed on his tongue to find a reply. He knew Connan was slightly skittish around the subject of "love". He knew that she had been through some tough times, and even a few betrayals to get to where she was now. Even the thought of becoming something more—as terrifying as it was to Carth—would probably be even harder to accept for her.

Connan herself didn't know what kind of answer she wanted. Inwardly, she was yelling at herself for even thinking such a thing. Still, she held her position and kept eye contact; as hard as that was becoming. She wouldn't let Carth show her up by backing away. But she didn't know what she would do if the unthinkable happened and he kissed her.

But since she _was _thinking it, it _was _pretty thinkable, wasn't it?

She cursed herself for these confusing thoughts. Half of her wanted to close the distance quickly. She was fighting that half of her with all of her strength. She didn't know what would happen at that point. What would it lead to? Would she be cast away, shamed for even trying such a thing with someone who just wanted a person to talk to?

Or would the unimaginable happen? If she were to attempt, would he retaliate? Would he not push her away? Was he just as apprehensive as she was? Or was he just staring back at her as a way to challenge her?

The sad thing was, the knowledge—or lack thereof—would come later.

The Dreshdae settlement doors _shuck_ed open and a tall, dark, old man came stomping through, followed by an extremely annoyed droid.

Connan blinked. The connection was lost.

"There you two are!" Jolee bellowed. He closed the distance between them and flicked Connan's ear harshly, making her cry out and slap his hand away. "I've been looking all over for you!"

"Reprimanding Scold: Master, I understand that you sometimes wish for time to yourself, but may I suggest that you be by yourself with better company? And possibly with better protection against the environment?" HK-47 agreed.

Carth didn't know if he was annoyed or angry. Not only had the two barged in on their talk, they'd come in _yelling _at them.

Apparently Connan was feeling the same way, because she placed her knotted fists on her hips and scrunched up her nose.

"If you wanted to find me sooner," She started, glaring at Jolee. "You would have used the Force to find me, like you keep telling me you used to do when you were younger. Honestly, if you didn't want me to pay attention to your stories when you tell them, you'd better _stop _telling them. I always listen to the parts you don't want me to hear."

Jolee huffed, combating glare with glare.

"Cheeky kid."

"And you." Connan whirled around on to HK-47. "I think I can choose what company I keep, thank you. And I will consider your advice about the environment. I didn't expect anything to happen this time, so technically it's not my fault."

"Resigned Answer: Very well, Master. Query: May we return to the ship? Unnecessary Input: The temperature there is so much better than the -12.222222222222223 degrees Celsius outdoors. Persuasion: Come inside the ship, where's it's a perfect 23.88888888888889 degrees Celsius." HK-47 replied, his yellow eyes lighting up and turning off as he calculated the temperature outside and mock-shivered.

Connan groaned, making Jolee snicker slightly. He'd come out because he'd felt the tension in her. He could feel it even to the ship. He wasn't like Bastila; he didn't have to be paying attention to her to know when she was upset. When he felt the conflict in her mind—no matter what it was about—he decided it was time to interrupt her and Carth's conversation, because that was obviously who she'd been talking to. He'd grabbed the first person—or droid—he'd come across and dragged them with him.

"Fine," Connan finally agreed. "I'll come back to the stuffy old ship." She stretched languidly. "But if Bastila thinks she's getting a lecture out of this, I'm going straight to Lashowe."

"I'll make sure nothing happens," Carth immediately pressed.

Connan couldn't help feeling a burst of relief at the out she'd been given. She didn't know what would have happened if she had kept up the challenge she was holding with Carth much longer. Neither of them was going to give up anytime soon, and if Jolee and HK hadn't shown up, she might have done something she hadn't wanted to do.

But they'd only come to bring Connan back to the ship, as Carth had. If they had done that in the first place, Connan wouldn't have had to have been saved from anything.

She'd been saved, frankly, for lack thereof.

-----

**I'm going to die.**

**I've never typed so fast in my life! And I had to talk my teacher into letting me email this thing to myself.**

**  
Look, I'm starting a new thing called "Based on a Title". This was supposed to be the start of it, actually. Reviewers send me a title and two genres minimum, and I make a story out of them. The reviewers can send whatever conditions they want, too. For example, a condition could be that "Candorous has to mistake a Twi'Lek dancer for a Republic Senator", or "Carth and LSF Revan have to hate each other in the beginning". It can be as complicated as you want. Whatever it is, I'll write it and post it in my free time. **

**I'll of course give you guys all the credit! Just send me a title and two genres (those are the two must-haves) and anything else you think I might need, or just see how hard you can make it on me. That harder the better!!**

**This counts as my Christmas story, guys, unless I get the gumption to write my Christmas Eve story. But don't count on it. So a happy Merry Christmas!!**

**Don't worry, I **_**will **_**update on ROTS this Sunday. I swear.**

**Please review!**

_**Amme Moto**_


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